The Legacy of Shisui of the Body Flicker
by AlexNameless
Summary: Danzo doesn't try to kill Shisui, so Shisui ended up having to help Itachi slaughter the entire clan before dying as ordered. Reborn as Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, he has a whole new burden on his shoulders. Save the entire wizarding world. Rewrite of "The Legacy of Shunshin no Shisui". ON HAITUS.
1. Prologue - The Uchiha Massacre

The Legacy of Shisui of the Body Flicker

Prologue – The Uchiha Massascre

June 16th. The night before the Uchiha coup d'état. Lord Fugaku had sent out emergency letters with the clan's fastest messenger hawks and called everyone in the clan back to the village to take part. Everyone was here and prepared for battle the next day at dawn – be it to participate or to defend themselves, their children, and the elderly when the battle spilled over the clan compound's oppressive walls. Weapons had been steadily bought and stockpiled for months now. It would be a bloodbath, one that neither Itachi nor fifteen year old Shisui himself could allow.

When he graduated from the Academy and put on his hitai-ate at six years old to go out and fight in the Third War, he'd been a naïve little kid. Images of bravery and glory and righteous victory in his mind. The enemies he fought were evil and threatened his clan and village's safety. It was simple, in his six year old mind. Us versus them. Good versus evil. But war had taught him quite suddenly, quite harshly, that there was no good or evil side in war. Everyone bled the same and everyone died with the same look of gaping horror. Not a single corpse on the battlefield was at peace. There is no justice in war.

Like his cousin Itachi, he'd hoped that someday there'd be a way to end all the fighting. Twelve year old Itachi had wanted to be Hokage someday. Now he'd never get the chance. The Uchiha name would be wiped from the face of the shinobi world tonight. Everyone – man, woman, elderly, children, babies, even Sasuke, Itachi, and himself were all going to die tonight. It was their orders, handed down from Lord Danzo. It was either this or civil war within the village. And once the village was in crisis, other nations would take advantage and attack.

He couldn't allow that to happen.

_This is the right path. _

He'd been telling himself this for days. Struggling with it and agonizing over it day and night. He'd completely stopped training, stopped showering, stopped eating, stopped leaving his house at all. Trying in vain to think of something, anything. Any other way. Anything but this.

_Its either this or another world war. _

He never imagined that he would be standing here on the power line pole, masking his chakra waiting for Sasuke to come home so he could kill him. He would spare Itachi that burden, at least. Itachi already had to kill his own parents. He didn't have any immediate family alive to kill tonight.

_Poor Sasuke. He has no idea. None of them did. _

Sasuke was just days away from mid-term summer vacation. Sasuke was staying late to practice his shurikenjutsu in preparation for end of first term finals. He had been so excited last time he saw him, chattering happily about summer plans. He was going to stay with his maternal grandparents for a week and they would take him out camping and foraging for edible plant life. It was just as much family bonding time as it was to help Sasuke get his summer homework assignments done.

_Now he won't get to go. _

Sasuke was late. He was probably panicking internally about being late to dinner. Lord Fugaku was always such a stickler for things like that. Sasuke was desperate to be noticed and acknowledged by his father. Their food was probably still sitting, half ready and boiling over in the kitchen, never to be eaten. Might even burn the house down depending on what state it was left in.

Then, he heard it. The sound of tiny, seven year old feet running, panicked, through the market at the front gates, stopping to stand and stare in horror the bodies of old Aunty Uruchi and Uncle Teyaki.

It hurt to have to kill them. _I'm sorry, Aunty. Uncle. _

They always greeted him happily on his way to and from school every morning and after every mission. The rice cracker shop had been in their family since the village was founded.

"Mom and dad…! Big brother!" Sasuke's thoughts instantly turned to his family and the boy took off, running past the bodies of dozens more Uchiha. Past the blood and mutilated bodies of his clan members. He didn't even think to grab a kunai or two from where they'd lodged themselves in the walls. Any thought of ninja training from school was gone from his mind, thinking only of the welfare of his family.

_I'm sorry, Sasuke. Itachi already has enough of a burden to bear. _

His own family was already dead. He had no parents or siblings or grandparents to kill tonight. Just one or two hundred nosy extended aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents. It was much simpler that way. Easier to leave relations at that than to bother keeping track of the actual family tree.

He body flickered in front of Sasuke, about a meter away.

"Shisui-san!" Sasuke cried out, terrified and confused and grasping at the first person who could help.

The little boy walked closer to his older cousin, seeking the comfort and protection his presence offered. "What's going on? Who would do this? Where's mom and dad and big brother?"

For once, Shisui couldn't come up with a fake answer. Lying and making light of everything usually came easy to him.

"I'm sorry, Sasuke-kun."

In one motion, he drew a kunai and slashed his throat open across the jugular.

Sasuke tried to call out to him. "Shi-!"

Blood sprayed all over his already blood-stained ANBU uniform. The unsuspecting seven year old crumpled the ground and quickly bled out, his eyes wide with horror and disbelief. He didn't even have time to process what had happened before he was dead.

Moments passed. The unsettling, stifling silence of the Uchiha compound felt suffocating.

Sasuke was dead. Aunty Uruchi and Uncle Teyaki were dead. Their granddaughter and her newborn baby girl were both dead. Everyone was dead. And he did it. He killed them. Him and Itachi killed everyone. All hundred and fifty members of the Uchiha clan, down to the last baby.

Tears welled up in his eyes as the reality of the world around him sank in, with the last person dead. Angrily, desperately, he rubbed them away._ Oh come on, ANBU don't cry. The mission's not over yet!_

He sniffled and choked back a sob as his legs gave out from exhaustion and he sank the ground. "I'm sorry…I'm so fucking sorry…!"

He stopped trying not to cry like a three-year-old and slammed a fist into the dirt, frustrated. Loathing himself. "I was supposed to save you all!"

He'd tried to shield Itachi from all of this. Him and his cousin, despite their age, were the most gifted fighters the clan had to offer so the village had used them to spy on the clan as double agents for years now. All the while, the clan itself was using them to spy on the village higher-ups. Neither side was willing to talk face to face or compromise.

_All the spying never did anyone any good! It just made all the tension worse…now look. They're all dead. Everyone. I killed my own family. I just killed my own fucking family. _

Then, he heard someone leap down a meter or so behind him and heard the crunching of boots as Itachi walked up to him.

"It is finished." Itachi said, his voice forcibly formal and thick with emotion.

He turned around and it didn't surprise him in the slightest that Itachi had awakened the mangekyo sharingan. It was the second to last stage of the sharingan, awakened by the pain of feeling responsible for the witnessed death of one of the people closest to you. Being ordered to kill your own parents would certainly fit that bill.

Just like how his own arrogance and jealousy made him responsible for the deaths of his sensei and genin teammates shortly after the Third War ended on a B-rank border patrol mission gone wrong.

As Itachi walked up to him, the tears his little brother had been trying to keep from falling spilled over and his cousin was silently crying again. "Its over, Shisui. I'm sorry Shisui. I'm so sorry-"

"Don't worry about it! Its okay. I forgave you a long time ago."

He put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug.

Their argument about how Itachi had wanted to set up Sasuke as the lone survivor and avenger was long forgotten. Right now they were just two crying teenagers, pawns in other people's quarrels. It shouldn't have had to end like this. Where did he go wrong?

He hugged his little brother tight, cherishing the moment. They'd be dead in another few minutes.

"I love you, Itachi. You've always been the little brother I never had, to me." He began.

He had thought for a long time about what his final words to his brother would be. There was so much he wanted to say. So much he wanted to apologize for. Before he died on his own sword like he deserved for failing everyone like this and dragging Itachi down with him.

"When we first met, you were just a six year old kid skipping class to practice shurikenjutsu cause practice in class was too easy. I was a real mess back then, you know?" he sniffled, pulling away from Itachi to look him in the eye. Itachi had to know how much he meant to him before he had to kill him.

"I was still a genin, but because of the conflict with Kumogakure was still ongoing and the Kyuubi attack on the village a year prior, we were being sent on missions way above our experience level. My team was sent to the border to patrol and gather intel, cause there'd been reports of Kumo-nin in the area. But it went wrong, so wrong, and everyone died. And I never forgave myself for it. Why did I deserve to live? Some jealous little shit like me. Then, I met you! I knew who you were, of course, you're Lord Fugaku's son the heir of the clan. But I'd never really taken the time to watch you train much less talk to you. I can't tell you how happy it made me to have you around, Itachi. Tagging along with me to train. Taking you out for dango after a mission and listening to all your stories about chasing lost cats with your unmotivated, slacker teammates. It gave me a purpose."

He gave a sloppy, wet grin at the memories. What he wouldn't give to go back and time and treat Itachi to his favorite food in the whole wide world, dango, and listen to him complain about his latest D-rank mission again. Itachi didn't realize it but he'd always been a little arrogant.

"Gods, Itachi. I'm so sorry. For everything. I just need you to know how much having you around as my stand-in little brother meant to me. I honestly don't think I would have lived without you."

Itachi nodded and wiped away his tears, looking solemnly at Shisui. "Thank you, Shisui. You understood me better than my own family did. You taught me so much and you've always been there for me. I'm sorry I couldn't do anything to help you or to stop all of this."

The twelve year old looked at his feet, remorseful, crying silently again. His father and the Hokage and the elders had all put so much pressure on him. Its why he'd tried to shoulder as much of it as he could and shield him from more stress and pain.

"Hey, no. Don't pull that look, it's not your fault. I promise!"

_If anything, its mine. I was made ANBU in name only so I could be free to move as needed and investigate the clan._

He sighed. _We're running out of time. _

He was in so much pain as it was. Even with his body flicker technique and the element of surprise, he'd taken a lot of hits and lost a good amount of blood taking down his half of the Uchiha clan.

"Alright, Itachi." He said, placing a hesitant hand on his sword. "We gotta finish this before the ANBU get here."

Itachi nodded. "Do it, Shisui. I'd rather die like this by an Uchiha's hand than get killed by some random hunter-nin."

_I know. You desperately want to be judged and punished for this._

Shisui nodded and before he could second guess himself, he brought the sword down and straight through his little brother's heart and back out again and then slashed his throat open.

Then, without even bothering to flick the blood off the blade, he stabbed himself in the gut straight through. He gasped and staggered and it burned and his legs gave out beneath him before he could even force the blade up and out and rip his stomach open.

_Fuck. What kind of a wimp can't even commit ritual suicide properly?!_

Desperate, he pulled at his chakra and carefully directed it to the fuinjutsu on his chest and activated it. He'd put it there during the period of conflict with Kirigakure just in case, cause it was better to go out like that by sealing your body away into nothingness than to let yourself be caught by the enemy, interrogated, and have your clan's special ability studied by enemy medic-nin.

It was a nice, efficient, quiet way to die when you didn't want to catch your comrades in the act of the more common, easier suicide explosion fuinjutsu. And Shisui wasn't good at fuinjutsu, or writing in kanji, but he wasn't about to risk his comrades during war.

_Forbidden Sealing Art: Secret Coffin Jutsu!_

Quickly, like flames licking across his bruised and torn up body, the broken kanji permanently put on his body with chakra-infused ink activated and moved, burning across his body.

Just as he started to hear the ANBU closing in, his vision faded into darkness and he knew nothing.

_Finally._ _I'm so fucking sorry everyone._

* * *

Author's Note: I got bored with canon so I took a few liberties! Here is my canon for this fanfic! It explains the inconsistencies!

Itachi has Amaterasu and Shisui has Tsukuyomi. Shisui doesn't have the game-breaking, 10-year-recharge Kotoamatsukami. Itachi doesn't get 2 mangekyo techniques and Shisui doesn't get what may as well be a god-tier mangekyo technique.

This means Danzo never tried to steal Shisui's sharingan to steal said god-tier move. This also means the Uchiha Massacre happened earlier, because Shisui's death pushed it back a year and 10 days. No I don't remember where I read that…just that it was in the manga somewhere…

I much rather like to write Danzo as an asshole who works with Orochimaru for the – twisted – good of the village long term.

Also, about Danzo's arm. It's a normal arm. Not an arm grown from the cells of a man whose been dead in canon for like forty years with stolen sharingan implanted in it. It just seemed like such an unexplainable leap in technology for a society that still uses birds to send messages.

I've been slowly starting to read the manga from the beginning and the Itachi Shinden novels and they gave me ideas. Up until now, I've read bits and pieces here and there that's it. Also, I know people get mad about deviating from canon, but Kishimoto had to write this as a weekly manga right? He was crunched for time with a deadline and had to make it up as he went. So there's a lot of things I find to be complete BS as far as plot devices go – like how Obito even survived being crushed by the rock.


	2. Chapter 1 - The Beginning

He was born in hiding, during war in a large, two story wooden cabin in a forest that had been in the Potter family for centuries. His father had been born here. In the distance, one could hear what sounded like cracks and explosions hitting something.

The ear-piercing cries of a newborn baby filled the maternity room of the ancient Potter mansion.

"It's a boy! A strong, healthy boy." A woman in a white uniform dress with a crest on her hat said, proudly. With the wave of a stick and a few words in yet another new language, the baby was cleaned up. She wrapped him up in an unnaturally warm, blood-red blanket with golden lions prancing around on it.

The midwife handed the baby to Lily. "Congratulations, Mrs. Potter." She turned to acknowledge her husband. "Mr. Potter."

The baby quieted and stared up at the woman whose arms he had been placed in, mesmerized by her emerald green eyes and her flowing red hair.

"Thank you, Miss Doula." Lily replied, gazing into the bright green eyes of her baby boy, completely enraptured with him.

Merlin knew where he got his wild, spiky mop jet black hair from – not even James' dark brown hair was that dark.

With the wave of her wand, and a swish and a flick, Ms. Doula summoned a birth certificate with the date, time, and parents' names already on it. "I'm terribly sorry, but we've got to hurry. There's no telling how long the wards will hold. What would you like to name him, Lord Potter?"

"Harry James Potter." A man with brown hair and blue eyes replied from the other side of the bed, standing beside his wife and newborn son. "After my grandfather, Henry."

"After the Wizengamot judge? Splendid choice." And so with another flick of the wand, it automatically penned the name on the birth certificate and signed it.

"Congratulations, Lord Potter, Mrs. Potter, on the birth of your baby boy. I will take my leave now," Ms. Doula said, waving her wand and directing all of the medical equipment to pack itself up. "Your house elf should be able to take care of everything else."

James nodded. "Thank you, ma'am. Good day." He moved to his wife and son's side and summoned a red blanket with lions prancing around on it to wrap Harry up in. It was dreadfully cold in here. They had avoided lighting a fire in the fireplace so as not to give away their location to the death eaters trying to break in outside.

However, when Ms. Doula went to apparate out and back to St. Mungos, it didn't work. "Huh?"

Surprised and a tad flustered, she tried again. "St. Mungos!" But it didn't work.

James turned around, mildly alarmed. "You can't get out?"

"No, my Lord, I can't. Can I borrow your floo?" She was becoming increasingly frantic, losing the forced professional voice she'd had all throughout the labor and naming. No one wanted to die.

James shook his head. "I'm sorry, but we had it locked down several months ago when we got the news we would be targeted. Just in case. Don't worry, I'll get us all out of here."

He looked back at his wife and son, filled with a paternal sense of love and responsibility he was only just getting used to. Everything changed when you became a parent. It wasn't all about you or even you and the love of your life anymore.

"Ms. Doula, get the guards in here." He ordered, his voice stern and every bit acting the head of house Potter that he was. "Holly!"

With a pop, a bony little house elf in a yellowed pillowcase appeared. "Yes? How can Holly be helping?"

Ms. Doula ran to the locked and warded door and banged on it. "Guards, guards! Come in, quickly! Quickly!"

Not a moment later, two aurors rushed in. "What's the matter? Is the missus and the baby alright?" asked the older one, while the younger one relocked and rewarded the door. The wards hadn't gone off so nobody had broken in.

"What's it look like outside?" James asked, demandingly.

"They've breached the front door and are currently fighting to get up the heavily guarded grand staircase."

"Damnit." James cursed. "They've set up anti-apparition wards, so we can't get out. Now that Harry's been born, we've got to move. Its not safe here. They're too close."

Holly approached him, wringing hands nervously. "Holly can help, Master James."

"Yes, of course. That's why I called you. We'll just have to be quicker than I wanted. No time to pack anything up."

Everything of vital importance to the family's history had already been sent to their Gringotts vault just in case. But they'd be leaving with just the clothes on their backs and Lily's purse.

"There's no telling if the Order is safe or not, if this place has already been breached. I don't want to apparate us into the middle of a battle. What about the Weasleys? Molly and Arthur. They won't like it but they would never turn us away."

"Lily, I want you and Harry to go with Holly first." He said, turning to his wife and daughter. "Then me and Ms. Doula will follow, and finally the guards. Is that alright, Holly?"

He turned to the elf and it nodded its head furiously. "Yes of course, Holly will do it! Anything for the Potter family." She had served the family well for decades.

Lily sat up and made to stand, supported by her husband, cradling her baby in her arms. "James, hand me my purse and Crookshanks." She asked.

She was exhausted, but she couldn't leave Harry's things behind or the family cat. She would never forgive herself if the cat was left to die. He had been her graduation present.

James huffed in frustration, wanting them to leave quickly, but retrieved her things anyways. "Ready now, dear?"

Within five minutes the entire family, the midwife, and the guards were all safely at the Burrow. They were decidedly uninvolved, citing their many young children at home. Arthur worked around the clock to feed them all.

Fifteen months later, Severus appeared just outside of the gate of the Potter's home with a faint pop. The wards had gone off and he'd apparated as quickly as he could, just beyond the apparition wards. It was surreal, looking at the house as it was now. The entire second floor had been blown out, like some muggle bomb had gone off.

With a sinking feeling in his stomach, Severus realized it was Harry's nursery. _Lily!_

Severus opened the gate and ran up to the Potter's safehouse with a rush of panic. _No she can't be-_

A sinking feeling in his gut so strong it was nauseating filled him when he didn't feel the familiar pulse of the fidelus wards permitting him entry into the home.

_Oh no._

The house was deafeningly silent. It was quite foreboding, walking into the front foyer of a house that was once so filled with life – a happy baby, doting parents, laughing marauders, and himself in some dark corner pretending he was more aggravated to be there than he actually was. But there was none of that now. The entire house was dark, as if the electricity had gone out, but it was a magical home so that wasn't possible_._

_Normal magic only stops working if its casters are dead._

_Lily. The children. They can't be dead._ _Anyone but Lily, please!_

His heart heavy, unshed tears springing to his eyes, he ran straight for the second floor. Fearful for the lives of Lily and her son and his unborn goddaughter, he broke out into a run, darting past James' body and darting up the stairs, strewn with bits of wall and parts of picture frames, and straight into Harry's nursery. The moment he walked in, he saw it. Just in the doorway was another body, one he never expected to see – Lord Voldemort. The black-haired, brown-eyed, pale-skinned dark lord who had made his very name a curse, who killed countless magicals and mundanes for the past decade, was dead, crumbled to the floor. His wand, 13 ½ inch yew wood with a phoenix feather core, lay discarded on the ground.

"Sev'us!" A small voice startled him. _Harry?_

He looked up to the boy's crib, and the boy was standing up, clutching the rail and a red Gryffindor lion blanket with one grubby hand and reaching out to him with the other.

He was covered in ashes, insulation, and dust, and a few pieces of rubble had fallen into his crib. When he looked at the toddler he could have sworn that the boy's eyes were red with a single black dot in them each, but the next moment they were gone. Faded back to emerald green.

"Sev'us!" The boy jumped impatiently and made a grabbing motion at him. It shouldn't have been a surprise to him, but he wasn't crying. He never cried, not since he learned to talk and verbalize what he needed.

"Up! Pisky!" The toddler demanded. Blood ran down the boy's face and a cut had been carved on the boy's forehead.

_A laceration? How? Did something hit him? He can't possibly have been hexed. A hex from the Dark Lord wouldn't leave a mere jagged cut. He glanced around the room. It looks as if a spell rebounded. Only a spell reflected back at its caster would cause such damage. But how? The killing curse is unblockable._

It wasn't until he began to approach Harry that he saw it. _Lily._

Tears sprang to his eyes and he fell to his knees beside her. She was collapsed, crumbled to the floor in front of Harry's crib as if she'd simply fallen over and her soul left her, without resistance at all. Surely the baby in her womb, still growing, was dead as well.

_I'm so sorry, Lily. I'm so sorry. I failed the both of you. All of you_.

He'd been this child's godfather. It had been his way of apologizing to Lily for selling them out - pledging on his very magic to do everything he could to protect Lily, Harry, and the baby. James had resisted and it wasn't until they found out the baby's gender that he finally agreed.

_They hadn't even thought of a name yet. They had ideas but no name._

He could have never predicted that Lily would be targeted when he reported the prophecy to the Dark Lord, much less this. Anything but this. He cried even harder, clutching Lily's lifeless body close to him as he realized that he would now be responsible for naming Lily's unborn daughter.

_Merlin, this can't be happening. What have I done?_

"Sev'us." Harry said quietly, trying to get his attention. "Up, Sev'us. Pisky."

Reluctantly, he put Lily down and went to the boy, picking him up with practiced ease. If it wasn't Harry, it was Draco.

"Mummy? Mummy korosa?" the child asked, pointing and looking at him with confused emerald green eyes.

Blood was still dribbling from his forehead wound. _He'll need to go to St. Mungos._

He didn't trust himself to reply and keep composure, so he stayed silent. Drawing his wand, and ignoring Harry's murmur of "mos" in anticipation, he waved it, thought, and cried again, and said _expect patronum._

A doe emerged from his wand and Harry pointed and smiled at it, following its gaze, mesmerized as it pranced around the room. "Deer!" he cried. He knew the name of his mother's patronus.

Severus sent a quick message to Albus and then set Harry down beside Lily. "_Accio_ diaperbag." He said. Harry couldn't stay here, it wasn't safe. If he couldn't protect Lily and her baby, he had to at least protect Harry. It felt surreal, numb really, packing up a bag for Harry. As if the whole thing was a bad dream and he'd wake up any second and Lily would be alive, arguing with James again over whether to give the baby a Potter girl name or an Evans flower name, or Sirius would bound in, overexcited for Harry and take him out to play on his racing broom.

Harry was sitting by his mother's body and stroking her beautiful, flowing red locks. "Mummy?"

Even in death, dressed in just a red maternity nightgown, she was beautiful. He was muttering spell names that Severus didn't recognize.

"Heiwa koros?" Harry always loved to play with her hair.

Severus packed quickly. Quidditch pajamas, Magical creatures pajamas, a formal outfit, two sensible outfits, a bag of diapers, and everything else he'd ever known Lily to pack for Harry went right in the bag.

"Harry, come here." He said, grabbing Harry's red peacoat and gold hat and gloves.

Harry hesitated before he walked over. His bare feet padding on hardwood seeming loud in the surreal, foreboding silence. "Go bye-bye?" He nodded. "Si-rus? Remus?"

He shook his head and helped the boy into his winter robes. "No, Molly and Arthur."

"Bye-bye Mowwy." The toddler echoed as he picked him up and shouldered the boy's bottomless, weightless diaper bag and walked downstairs. He was content with all of this, to Severus' surprise. Weren't babies supposed to cry a lot more than this?

Then, they reached the stairs and Harry sat up straighter in his arms and turned back to look at his nursery, a look of sad understanding in his eyes.

"Sowwy Mummy." He said as tears sprang to his emerald eyes, his voice shaking. Then, his eyes turned red with a single red dot in each, once again, only to quickly go back to being green.

"I'm sorry, Harry." He swallowed again and blinked back tears. Severus didn't give Harry a chance to reply and with a small, faint pop he disapparated to The Burrow.

Within the hour, everyone in the main circle who wasn't an auror had gathered at The Burrow. Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Rubeus Hagrid, Remus Lupin, Augusta Longbottom. Their numbers were few after a decade at war. Almost the entire Bones family was murdered as well as Benjy Fenwick, Marlene McKinnon and her family. Molly Weasley had lost her brothers Fabian and Gideon Prewett. No one in this room, gathered in the living room and kitchen area around Minerva, was a stranger to loss and war. It was bittersweet, because at least Harry was alive, clutched tightly in Minerva's arms on the ratty old couch, clinging to her and looking around, quiet and uncertain. The foreign runes on his forehead had faded. His diaper bag sat, mostly forgotten, between her and Molly, who was nursing two and a half month old Ginerva at her breast. The other children were all upstairs, sound asleep and blissfully unaware of the happenings downstairs. Owls had been sent off alerting friends, family, and acquaintances all over.

Hagrid was at the table drinking, crying and getting pissed. He'd been like that since he came with Albus earlier. There was not a dry eye in the Longbottom was sat a respectable distance away, barely presentable, watching impatiently. She had to leave her grandson for this and it was something she could read just as well in a letter.

Remus hasn't spoken since he got here, and he hasn't taken his eyes off either Harry or Dumbledore the whole time. He knew everyone thought he was the spy, until an hour ago. "Albus, has there been any word on Sirius and Peter?" They were both inexplicably missing.

"I'm afraid not." Albus replied. Both of their letters came back without a reply and undelivered, respectively.

"All the aurors are out looking for them right this very moment." Twinkling eyes fell on Harry. "At last, the war is over, even if just for now."

The very idea was still so surreal. Like a dream. Even Albus couldn't explain it. The whole second floor looked like a powerful bombarda or reducto rebounded, yet both Tom and the Potters appeared to have died peacefully by way of the killing curse, and little Harry survived with just a cut on his forehead.

Augusta eyed Albus with a critical eye. "How can you say such a thing? Are you absolutely sure that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named survived?"

Albus nodded but she didn't let him reply, speaking over whatever it was he was starting to say. "Snape found the body, Albus! His followers are going to jail and their leader is dead. It's over, Albus. My son and his wife can come out of hiding, now. My grandson can finally see his parents again."

She was understandably exasperated. "If you've any proof, say it now! If all this is, is another death notification, then I'm going home to my grandson!"

"Now, Augusta, I know you're upset. You have every right to be." Albus gave her a placating look. "The most obvious sign is the DADA position. It is still cursed - I had the elves check on it as soon as I got the news. Furthermore, the dark marks of the followers have not faded. And finally, we have known for quite some time that Tom has been boasting about finding immortality. I can assure you, this is not just a scare tactic – Tom has been interested in immortality since his school days."

A warning, cautionary look was sent around the room. "Tom is not dead. He is merely resting, waiting and biding his time until his followers find him. That is why we must turn our focus, for now, to catching and imprisoning Tom's followers." A soft, twinkling, gaze that was almost grandfatherly turned to Harry. "Harry is the child of prophecy – we must do everything we can to protect him."

Minerva turned her eyes away from the child, now half-asleep laying on her chest, arms wrapped around her neck, head nestled on her shoulder. "Are you sure that the prophecy hasn't already been fulfilled? You-Know-Who is disembodied, is he not? Hasn't Harry already done his part?"

Albus frowned. "That I do not know, my dear. I can't tell you what happened that night, but whatever it was, whatever Harry did, he is a very special child. I am certain that he will be very important when he grows up."

Silence filled the room, save the occasional sniffle or watery hiccup, and the suckling noises of baby Ginerva.

"Albus…" Molly said, tentatively, still looking down at Ginny, still crying. "If they can't find Sirius…I would like to raise Harry."

Her voice was a barely discernable whisper, as if she was afraid to wake Harry beside her. "He can play with Ron and the boys and Ginny. He'll be loved here. Me and Arthur, we'll raise him as our own."

Albus shook his head in the negative. "I'm sorry, Molly. Harry needs to be as safe as he can be. Every single one of Tom's death eaters will be looking for him."

Albus held up a hand, silencing her before she could speak up. "I have an idea. But first, I need to return to Hogwarts and verify a few things. I also need to check on the status of the aurors' search."

He drew his wand. "This house is sufficient for now, being unplottable, but Tom has gotten around unplottable before."

They would not have had to resort to the fidelus charm otherwise.

"Keep Harry safe while I'm gone. Severus was thoughtful enough to bring Harry's things for him, everything he needs should be in there. I will return by nightfall. Severus, if you would accompany me?" Severus walked over and put a hand on his headmaster's shoulder, and with a pop, he was gone.

They appeared in Albus' office. It was the only room on Hogwarts Grounds you could apparate into and only the headmaster could apparate and disapparate to and from it, and only willingly. Ancient magic from the founders time.

Albus did not waste any time and began searching through the bookshelves against the wall, looking for a particular book. "Severus, tell me…what happened?" Aside from the obvious, of course.

"I failed her. I made a vow on my magic, I did everything I could, and I still failed her." Severus refused to look at Albus, and tears fell silently once more. He was a broken twenty-one-year old man. "I would have sooner let the Dark Lord kill me than let it come to this, if I had known." He and James had even made a truce, granted it was at wandpoint courtesy of Lily, for the sake of Harry and their unborn daughter.

Albus put up a hand, placating. "I know, Severus. I have never doubted your loyalty to Lily." He pulled books from shelves, glancing at them and flipping through a few pages before putting them back on the bookshelf. "You were the first one to get there. Is there anything you can tell me?"

Severus was silent for a moment. "Lily was always a genius, Albus." Indeed, she was always working on one project or another, endlessly fascinated by magic and curious to push its perceived limits. "I don't know what she did, but I doubt that the cut on his forehead is just from flying rubble. From looking at the damage, I would say that somehow, something Lily did protected Harry and made the killing curse rebound on himself."

It was the only explanation. Only the killing curse would have killed the Dark Lord, and the Dark Lord would not have hesitated to kill his target. He wasn't one to toy with targets, he only tortured his followers.

"I had an associate of mine gather up any ancient tomes they could find that might be useful to protect the house and the children. Whatever she found in them she must have used, because in all my years reading about the Dark Arts and serving the Dark Lord I have never seen magic work like that."

Albus gave a non-committal hum. "I will have to tell the aurors to bring me all the books from the house that are still intact, then. Maybe we can figure out what it is she may have done to protect Harry."

A few more minutes, and a few more books later, Albus finally found it. "Ah-ha! Here it is."

He pulled a book on warding off the highest shelf, covered in dust it had sat unread for so long. Severus gave him a questioning look. "This, my boy, is a very obscure book about warding. It has a blood ward in it that I would like to use for Harry, after I get the Ministry's approval."

This perplexed Severus. Only wards in a muggle neighborhood required Ministry approval. That's when it hit him. _Wait he said 'blood wards' …!_

"Albus, you can't be serious! Petunia hates the entire magical world, and Harry will not be an exception just because he is her nephew." If looks could kill, Albus would be dying. "Don't underestimate the power of hatred, Albus."

Albus looked up from his reading, his expression grave, sorrowful. "Then I will tell you not to underestimate the power of grief." Severus paused. "When I lost my little sister Ariana, I couldn't forgive myself. For years I resented her, having to take care of her because she was helpless and there was no one else. My little brother Aberforth was still in school, after all. I could have been out exploring the world, learning new things, and making my mark on the world, but she held me back." He sighed, and for the first time, Severus thought he looked world-weary.

"My own selfishness and greed cost my sister her life, Severus. I would give anything to go back to our childhood home and have the burden of taking care of her all over again. Her death changed my perspective of her completely. I am confident that Petunia Dursley will see a new perspective, as well. She will love Harry and raise him as her own."

Severus was silent. He wasn't sure which to believe, Albus' grief or his hatred of his father.

Night had fallen again on The Burrow. It had been nearly 24 hours since the Potters were killed and Molly had just gotten fussy Harry to sleep with Ron and was coming down the stairs when Albus popped back in, without Severus or Minerva. "Any news, Albus?" she said, rushing over. Her husband stood from his favorite armchair and rushed over to her side. Augusta was long gone and so was everyone else. Only Remus had remained.

Albus motioned to the kitchen table. "Please, sit down everyone. There are a few things that I need to tell you all." Wary and cautious, everyone made their way to the table and sat down with Albus. "First, the good news. I have a plan to protect Harry until all of the death eaters are imprisoned. It is not ideal, but it is the best course of action open to us right now."

He paused, looking each of them in the eye. "I am going to give Harry to the Dursleys. You see, his mother had a sister, a muggle named Petunia Evans. She is married now and has a husband and young son Harry's age. I have received permission from the Ministry's Child Welfare Department and had the paperwork written up already to set up blood wards around Harry's house. They will be set up to prevent all magical creatures and humans alike with a dark mark from coming on the family's property. I will have Hagrid fly Harry there himself, to allow me time to apparate there and set up the wards." He looked around the table again. "Is that clear? Any questions?"

Arthur looked confused. "Fly? Do you want him to take my flying car? Albus, I think he's too big to drive it."

Albus chuckled. "No, Arthur. Aurors recovered Sirius' motorbike and I am temporarily lending it to Hagrid. When all of this is resolved, it will go in the Black family vault."

Only Albus, the Former Savior of the Wizarding World and Defeater of Lord Grindewald, could convince the Ministry aurors to temporarily lend him their evidence before the case was resolved in court.

"Now, for the bad news." Albus face fell and his expression was once again sorrowful and world-weary. For a moment he looked every bit the 100 year old wizard that he was.

"I am sorry to report that the aurors have found Sirius and Peter. It appears that Sirius was the spy in our midst. According to half a dozen witnesses, Sirius cornered Peter and killed him and a dozen muggles with a single spell. Sirius was arrested not far from the scene and is currently sitting in a cell in the Ministry dungeons awaiting a trial by the full Wizengamot. As for Peter…all they could find of him to keep for burial was his right index finger."

Silence. Deafening, foreboding silence. They are all surprised. They thought that because of how his family reacted to his Gryffindor sorting, kicking him out but not disowning him, that he would be loyal to them to the end. The Potters had taken him in, even. He had been the most vocally against Lupin, labelling him as the spy. He was the one they least suspected. And now, this?

"Are you sure, Albus?" Molly asked. Her tone was just exhausted, emotionally depleted. "There's no mistaking any of this? You performed the spell - Sirius was definitely their secret keeper? Is there any chance that all of this is just a mistake?"

No one wanted to believe they were betrayed by one of their own, by one of the inner circle. Albus shook his head, and Molly started shaking and began cursing aloud at Sirius, calling him every foul name she could think of.

"Those Blacks are all the same! Dark wizards, they all are. I hope he rots in Azkaban for this!" Arthur pulled his wife to him, putting an arm around her and trying to console her.

"He had us all fooled. What did we miss, Albus?" Molly was crying and yelling now, gesticulating wildly. Arthur got up and led her away from the table and back to their room, talking quietly to her the whole walk back.

Albus let them go and turned his attention to Remus Lupin. Remus was dumbstruck, still, and crying silently. "Remus, I owe you an apology. We all owe you an apology."

Remus turned cautious green eyes to Albus. He still wasn't over everyone labelling him as the spy. "Out of all of us, you and Harry are suffering the most, but at least he will not remember this."

He had lost everyone he was closest to in a single night, all save their son. His two childhood friends, his childhood friend's wife, and his ex-boyfriend.

"You are not alone, Remus. You are welcome here. No one thinks ill of you anymore, and if anyone says anything then they will have to answer to me. I will not tolerate divisive comments in our temporary moment of peace."

Too many people had sacrificed themselves and laid down their lives for them to be able to sit here like this, alive and well and safe from Voldemort.

Remus nodded stiffly. "Thank you, Albus. I appreciate it, I really do."

He looked at him, trying to reassure him of his sincerity. "You are the only person who's said anything so far. I just...I just need to be alone for a while."

Remus stood and walked to the fireplace, taking a handful of floo powder. "If you or Harry need anything, just fire call me or send a patronus." Albus nodded, watching sadly as Remus called out the name of his house and disappeared in a roar of green flames.

A while later, Albus was cradling Harry in his arms outside. The toddler was clutching at his robes, nervously, and although his eyes were droopy with exhaustion he was too nervous to lay his head down. He was looking all around the vast field and forest that surrounded The Burrow.

Molly and Arthur were still in their rooms, Ginerva was nursing again, and the rest of the children were all asleep. The boy was still wrapped in his red Gryffindor blanket, covered with golden lions charmed to roar silently and make various animations. One was cleaning its paw, another was roaring at another lion that was growling, and two more were racing each other across the blanket's red surface.

"Lily was always best at charms." Molly had dressed him in his quidditch pajamas tonight. The quaffle and bludger were stationary, but a golden snitch flitted around the surface of the long sleeve, baby blue shirt.

An engine sounded in the distance, in the air, and when Harry heard it his face lit up. "Si-rus!" the boy was too tired to wriggle around and try to get free, but he did wrestle an arm free from the blanket's confines to point up at the flying motorbike descending down upon the driveway. Albus gave the boy a sad smile. In the darkness, the toddler couldn't tell who it was. He would be disappointed.

Hagrid walked up to Albus, his face still swollen and red from crying all day. At least, it appeared he'd taken a sober up potion.

"Harry!" the half-giant beamed at Harry, giving the boy the best, most enthusiastic smile he could muster.

Hagrid was a stranger, but this didn't bother Harry. "Hi Hagid."

Hagrid reached out and took Harry, getting him settled into the wrap carrier that Albus handed him a moment later. "This is Molly's, Hagrid, so take good care of it."

Hagrid nodded hurriedly. Molly could be quite intimidating when angered.

Albus walked them over to the motorbike. He tapped a circular monitor on the motorbike and said, "Point me, Number 4 Privet Drive, Surrey, England."

The monitor lit up and a green arrow appeared. "There, that will show you to way. When you get close, it will turn red. I will be waiting there. Look for me where the street lamps have all gone dark." Albus instructed, holding up his deluminator and gesturing with it.

Hagrid nodded. "Yessir. I'll get him there safe and sound for yeh."

Albus smiled. "I can always count on you, Hagrid. Remember, fly high and stay above the cloud cover. No one can see you. Now, off you go." He waved at Harry. "Bye, Harry." It might be another year or two before he saw the child, maybe even ten.

Harry was left on the doorstep of his new home quickly and quietly, so as not to wake him, and after a few heartfelt goodbyes, a letter was slipped between the folds of the blanket, his escorts popped away.

Even if he had the mind of a dead fifteen year old ninja, in body he was still a newly orphaned, traumatized civilian toddler. Without the comfort of his mother's warming charm on the baby blanket to protect him from the chilly, 40-degree November night breeze, he woke up much earlier than planned. Certainly, neither Hagrid nor Minerva nor Albus had ever had children of their own if they had expected the toddler to sleep soundly through the night. Molly may have given him a toddler's sleeping draught, courtesy of Snape, but those were only meant to put infants to sleep while they were teething, not to keep them asleep all night. Such a potion would be dangerous to administer to a baby.

The short fifteen-month-old got up, half awake and confused when he realized he wasn't at home in his crib or with the big warm man anymore. "Sev'us? Mowwy?" He didn't see Severus or Molly anymore either.

"Daddy?" He wrestled himself out of the blanket and sat up, picking up his blanket and clutching it to his chest.

He heard something and looked down, seeing a letter. It fell. "Uh-oh! I get it." He picked it up and looked around.

"Si'rus! Remus!"

Then, he noticed the doorbell. He knew what a doorbell was.

"Ding-dong!" He exclaimed, pushing it with a small, grubby, gold-gloved finger and giggling, when he heard the sound echo through the house interior. He pressed it again and again and again, giggling happily, until the door was wrenched open angrily.

"What do you want?!" He gasped and backed up at the loud angry man that appeared in the doorway, falling over the stoop in the process and landing hard on his bottom.

The curses died on Vernon's lips when he saw the toddler. He turned on the porch light and took notice of the diaper bag near the boy, wondering if he'd been abandoned. He looked inside the house and called for his wife.

"Pet! You'd better come look at this!" He knelt down to the black-haired, emerald eyed boy, an act made awkward by his weight. He didn't recognize the child.

He beckoned to him. "Come here, little tyke."

The boy hesitated but walked up to him. "Mummy s'inda."

At this point, the man's wife appeared in the doorway. "Vernon, what is it?" Then she saw the child. "Vernon, get the boy inside! He'll get sick out there. Is it one of the neighbors' section boys? Why's he got a letter and a diaper bag?"

Vernon stumbled over his answer. "I dunno, let me look."

The man picked up the diaper bag and ushered the boy inside, closing the door behind them. "Can I have the letter?"

The boy didn't reply, but he recognized the gesture and handed it to him.

As he opened it, his wife knelt down motioned the boy forward for a better look at him. She gasped when she saw his eyes. "You can't be…What's your name, dear?"

The boy answered her right away without a hint of shyness nor a moment of hesitation. "Harry." Petunia forced herself to reply. "I'm your Aunt Petunia."

Harry stared at her with wide, intelligent green eyes. "Aun' Tuny?"

Beside her, Vernon growled at the letter. "Its those damn freaks again!" he shoved the letter in her hands. "I don't care what they want, we're not keeping him!" he exclaimed, loudly and firmly, as if the sniffling toddler was nothing more than a stray pup his son dragged in.

Petunia scanned the letter, becoming increasingly distraught with each line she read. "They killed her, Vernon. They killed Lily."

Tears sprang to her eyes, and if she hadn't already been on her knees to talk to Harry she'd have fallen right where she was. Grief and anger overcame her all at once. Tears streaming down her face, she threw the letter aside angrily and pulled Harry in for a hug. "Harry. Oh, Harry!"

Vernon shuffled awkwardly beside them, but he had enough sense to not ask. Didn't she hate Lily? "I should have made up with her years ago. She was all I had left. And Dudley has no one now. All his classmates will have grandparents and aunts and uncles and he'll have no one." She was distraught.

Vernon started to speak up, but she cut him off, releasing Harry to stand and properly berate her husband. "Your sister hardly counts, Vernon! She's a drunk just like your father."

Vernon backed away from them, looking cowed, and retreated to the living room to put the diaper bag on the coffee table. Harry followed him and climbed up on the couch and laid down.

"Christ, Vernon what am I supposed to do. You can't ask me to send him away. He's all I have of Lily, and after everything that's happened, I can't just leave him to the wolves."

"B-but Pet, your parents! Your grandparents!" Vernon sputtered. "That madman killed them all looking for that freak!"

He pointed at Harry, loudly, his gesture more confused and surprised than angry. "I won't allow it! I'm not putting you and our son at risk for a freak boy that you've hated up until now!" Vernon only ever grew a backbone when it came to her and Dudley.

"He's dead, Vernon! The madman is dead. He is my nephew!" Petunia exclaimed. Vernon was all talk and no bite and they both knew it. "They are searching for his followers and they will all go to prison. We are safe, Vernon. We're safe. Harry's safe." Her voice was calm now, even pleading. "He won't be some freak like Lily or that unemployed lowlife that she married. He's going to be a normal, responsible, upstanding boy just like Dudley will be."

Vernon wondered for a moment if she was being serious or if this was just as much to convince herself as it was him. "You're certain, Pet? He'll do no magic whatsoever?"

His wife nodded. "Yes, Vernon. Lily could always control her magic. If we raise the boy like it doesn't exist, and if we're strict with him, and if we don't let him go to _that school _then I'm sure we can do it. He'll be just a normal boy."

Her parents had showered Lily with attention and praise and never once punished her for anything she did after she started going to Hogwarts.

"Fine, Pet. The freak stays." Vernon growled. "But you will go through me for every pence you spend on him! We're strapped enough saving for Dudley to go to Smeltings."

Petunia nodded. Perfectly reasonable, that was.

"He can sleep on the couch tonight, we'll figure something out in the morning." Vernon made to leave the room, presumably for the spare blankets in the hall cupboard, but she grabbed his arm and stopped him.

"How can you say that, dear? He could walk outside into the street and get lost. The neighbors, even the police, would be all over us! Nevermind the headmaster!"

Vernon paused, and she could tell from the look on his face that such a possibility hadn't crossed his mind.

"He can sleep in Dudley's playroom tonight on the pullout bed." Petunia said with a note of finality.

Vernon pulled his arm away from her and shrugged. "Whatever you want, Pet. He's your problem, not mine."

Petunia sighed, exasperated with him, and turned on her heel back to Harry as her husband ambled down the hall and back to their bedroom.

"Come here, Harry," she said, scooping the boy up and that red blanket he'd arrived in, draping it over and around him so it was secure and he was warm.

She scowled when she noticed the lions moving around on it. _That will have to go. We cannot have such nonsense around Dudley. _He stirred and lifted his head for a moment before laying it back down on her shoulder. She carried him into the kitchen and grabbed a sippy cup for him from the cabinets, filling it with water from the tap.

"Here, Harry. Its time to go night-night." _I hope he knows what to do with it._

The boy grabbed it and sipped at it without any sign of confusion. "Nigh-nigh?"

_Maybe she used normal things with him._

"Yes, Harry, it's way past night-night time." Harry seemed to relax at the familiarity. Tears sprang to her eyes as she watched him drink his water.

_I always knew she would be such a good mother._

She carried him into Dudley's playroom and did her best to ignore the feelings of deep sorrow that carrying Harry into the room brought on. She shouldn't be carrying Harry in here. It was still painted pink with wooden letters hung on the wall spelling out the name Rose Marie. Rose wallpaper border hung at on the ceiling's border all around the room. She had repurposed the furniture for Dudley, and had donated most of the clothes she'd been gifted, and set it up with their old living room couch and an off-white plastic toy box from the store as Dudley's playroom but these had remained. She couldn't take this down yet.

Blinking back tears, she shut the door behind them and set him down on the floor so she could set up the pull-out bed for him. She would never have put Dudley on the couch pull-out bed, it was too high up to be safe, but it would have to work for now. They kept Dudley's old Noah's Ark infant bedding in a basket by the couch, Harry could use that. They had just updated his bed to a toddler bed with a football (American soccer) theme, necessitated because Dudley had got his chubby little leg stuck between the rails of his crib a few weeks prior.

That first night was long for all of them. Harry woke up at the crack of dawn screaming and crying, which woke up Dudley too. It was early, well before Dudley usually woke up. Dudley had always been a late sleeper just like his mother. It was a Friday morning so Petunia had been sound asleep while her husband quietly got ready for work. Their morning breakfast routine had yet to start. Mother and son usually slept in while father got ready for work and picked himself up breakfast on the way in to work. But Harry would change all of that.

Petunia went in to console Harry, marching into his room, conflicted between feeling both annoyed at being woken up (and that Dudley was woke up) and anguished that the boy was screaming for his mother.

He had fallen off the bed and the moment she walked in, he got up and ran over to her. For a moment, she thought his eyes were red with a red dot in each.

"Aun' Tuny! Up!" He exclaimed, before throwing his arms around her neck and crying into her shoulder.

"Tachi! Sasuke!" He was crying, tears streaming down swollen red chubby cheeks.

Petunia was puzzled. _What on earth is he saying? Is he asking for a spell? Why's he asking for a spell?_

She could hear Dudley walking around and turning over bins of toys in the next room, and decided to distract him instead. "Let's meet Dudley, Harry."

She put him down and took him by the hand, still clutching that damned blanket in his other hand, and walked him over to Dudley's room. She would have to find a way to take the blanket without him noticing.

She opened Dudley's door and turned found him with his box of trains dumped out all over the floor. "Good morning, Duddikins!"

She pulled her best, happiest smile for her son. "Mo-ning mummy!"

Dudley hugged his mother and they shared a moment of normalcy before Dudley finally noticed Harry.

"Dudley, this is Harry. He'll be living with us from now on."

Dudley looked at Harry, uncertain. "Hawwy?"

Petunia nodded. "Yes, this is Harry." she turned to Harry. "Harry, this is Dudley."

Harry waved. "Hi Duddy."

She got the boys dressed, both of them wearing Dudley's clothes. Dudley was big for his age and a big eater so they were big on Harry, but they would have to do. Even the pajamas Lily put on him were freakish. _If all of his clothes are like those pajamas, I'm going to have to put them all in the bin._

She turned on the telly for the boys and put on some cartoons while she got breakfast for them – a dry eggo waffle, a banana, and a single egg scrambled each. Dudley could feed himself in front of the telly on the floor, so she assumed Harry could too. She always knew that Lily would make a good mother, freak or not. Hopefully Harry could use a toddler fork. Did wizards eat with forks? She wasn't sure. They were so backwards.

Dudley ate eagerly, as usual. She had gotten him his favorite eggo waffles, the new flavored ones he liked. Harry didn't eat much, and instead appeared to be more interested in the telly and in what Dudley was playing with. Dudley had a bunch of trains and cars spilled out on the play mat.

"P'ease?" Harry asked, picking up two of them, looking at Dudley, waiting for a reply. Apparently Lily had taught her son how to play with other children, and the boy possibly had experience playing with other children given what he just did…was he friends with other freaks? Would he pass on their habits to Dudley?

For a long moment Harry just stood there. Any other baby wouldn't have waited for a response like this, any other baby would've started playing with the two toys he'd taken by now. But not Harry, Harry sat down and thrust the toys in Dudley's face and repeated himself. "P'ease? P'ease Duddy?"

Dudley finally noticed Harry and what he was doing and reached for the two toy trains he was holding in his tiny, grubby toddler hands. "Mine!"

In his haste to take his toy back, Dudley pushed Harry over and then tripped over him and fell half on him half on the floor. Harry threw an arm over his face to shield himself, not losing his grip on either of the toys.

Petunia hurried off the armchair and over to the boys. "Dudley, Harry, are you alright?"

Harry was mostly unphased, if a bit shaken, slowly, gingerly, putting down the toy trains and just sitting there, watching. He was looking at her now, knelt down at their side. Dudley was starting to cry.

He sniffled and curled in on himself, his face red and scrunched up, tears running down his face. "Gomen mina." He said, sobbing and staring at the young mom embracing her infant son.

She pulled her chubby sixteen month old son close to her and held him. "You're fine, Dudley." She consoled him, rubbing his head with its mop of blonde hair, not yet combed, like he always liked.

"No hit, Dudley. No hit." She said, her voice firm, stern. She had to make him understand. "Be nice to Harry. You're brothers now."

She had always wanted Dudley to have another sibling to play with. Would it have gone this poorly if Rose hadn't passed away? Would Dudley have gotten along with his big sister?

"I love you, Dudley." She hoped she was doing this right. She was a first-time mother to two boys, now, and she hardly knew what she was doing with Dudley.

"Wuve oo mummy." Dudley repeated. Warmth and affection filled her at his words. This was all that mattered.

Days became weeks, and weeks became months. Dudley fought with Harry a lot and Harry woke up screaming with red eyes a lot. Sometimes he woke up screaming Mummy, and sometime he woke up calling out more nonsense words she didn't recognize. She tried to drug him but the cold medicine only got him to sleep quicker. It didn't last through the night and Vernon was already angry enough wasting their money giving the boy cold medicine so he'd go to sleep. She both loved and hated Harry; she loved him because he was her nephew, but at the same time he was the reason that her whole family was dead. He was more of a freak than regular freaks – he had people after him from the day he was born and he survived something he wasn't supposed to have survived. And now, he woke up screaming with freakish red eyes, his voice loud enough to wake the house whole house up.

Harry's room arrangements changed rather quickly. She had had enough of his nightmares waking up Dudley. She could lock him in the cupboard under the stairs, at least. It already had a lock and a baby lock on it so Dudley couldn't get in it – the plain lock had worked until Dudley figured out how to turn it and get inside, at which point she put a baby doorknob over it and hoped he wouldn't figure that out too.

Author's Note: Sorry for the boring, headcanon setup chapter. I wanted to set the tone for how Petunia and Vernon feel about Harry, set up Severus and Harry, and hopefully get the message across this time that he's Shisui. Not Harry. That's why he's having nightmares waking up calling for Itachi and Sasuke and why he's not crying when he gets hurt and asking for an episky spell to heal him. Also, i have no idea if i want Shisui in Gryffindor or Slytherin. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff aren't options because there aren't enough developed canon characters to work with to be his friends. So, Which house do you want to see him get sorted in?

4/6/20 - Minor edits made, mostly to edit out the unnecessary use of 'scene change' or 'timeskip'. Thanks to the reviewer that pointed it out! Its a bad habit of mine, i just read it so much so i used it without thinking. Working on finishing the next chapter right now.


	3. Chapter 2 - Normal

Chapter 2 – Normal

Sunday, September 2nd, 1984. It was the day before Harry and Dudley were supposed to start preschool, and the entire Dursley family was out doing the weekly shopping. Petunia was pushing the cart, with Harry dutifully holding onto the cart as ordered while Dudley ran ahead, picking items off the shelf and running back, begging to buy them. Vernon was tagging along as well, if only for the express purpose of strictly controlling how much money was spent on Harry.

The made decent training, he supposed. If you squinted. Dudley wouldn't let him get within a meter of Uncle Vernon and would push, shove, and kick him away and any noise of protest from him got the both of them in trouble. Uncle Vernon didn't have the patience for it and Aunt Petunia was embarrassed just to be seen with him. But she seemed oddly, seriously convinced that if he was left alone in the house it would be blown up, so he was never left home alone.

_Wonder what the story behind that is. Did I do something with my new kekkei genkai as a toddler that I just don't remember?_

Shisui really didn't mind that he didn't get to pick his food out. He wasn't picky, he would eat anything. Anything was better than surviving on insects injured, stranded, and waiting to be found and extracted on a mission. It was always the same, but he didn't mind that either. All he'd ever had for breakfast in his life was two slices of toast with just a single sliver of jam each, to make the jar last as long as possible. When they got to the register to check out Uncle Vernon would always go and pay for Shisui's things using the envelope containing his entire month's Harry Budget in it at self-checkout, leaving him and Aunt Petunia to load the groceries on the conveyer belt.

Currently, Dudley was throwing a tantrum Aunt Petunia wouldn't let him get a toy off the shelf of impulse buy stuff.

"M-mum-my, I wa-wa-want it!" Dudley screamed as loud as he could, sobbing, red faced, big fake tears streaming down his four year old face, clutching a chocolate bar and a photo reel for his ViewMaster.

Aunt Petunia panicked. "We will! We will, okay? We'll get it for Christmas!"

Dudley gave her a cross look. "N-no! No-o I wa-want it no-now!" He burst out crying even harder.

His Aunt Petunia looked around, completely flustered, before looking her son in the eye again. "Tell you what, dear. I'll get you two! Two for Christmas. How's that sound?"

Uncle Vernon had arrived with his two bags of groceries for the week and plopped them in the cart on top of Aunt Petunia's purse. "Seven quid, Pet! Can you believe that? Just for the boy's breakfast and lunches for the week!"

He completely missed Aunt Petunia's cross look. Not because he was being a penny-pincher with her nephew's groceries, but because he was talking about it in public and making her look bad.

"What's the matter, Dudders?" Uncle Vernon asked, grabbing a soda out of one of the coolers and taking a big sip of it before offering it to Dudley. "Here, son."

In order to take the drink, Dudley had to put down the photo reel which gave Aunt Petunia the chance to take it away from him and hand it to the clerk behind the counter. "He wants the ViewMaster, but I told him it'll have to wait until Christmas."

She sounded annoyed. He wasn't helping her and he was being a bit oblivious.

Uncle Vernon nodded, taking his drink back from Dudley and offering his wife a drink. "Right you are, Pet. Sorry Dudders, not today. We'll buy you three for Christmas! Now, hand the nice lady your chocolate bar so we can pay for it."

Dudley obeyed and as soon as he had his chocolate bar back in his hands, he pouted, crossed his arms and looked sourly at everyone, still sniffling.

The cashier handed Dudley's chocolate bar back to him with a warm smile. "There you go, kiddo. All yours!"

"Do you want yours out too, hun?" she asked, turning to him as he continued taking full grocery bags off the carousel and piling them on the floor because there wasn't a second cart to put them in.

He looked at Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon, gauging their reactions.

His aunt was already pasting a forced, kindly expression on her face as she turned to speak to him. "Harry, dear, did you forget? Go pick out your snack."

He played along. "Oh yeah!"

His uncle looked furious as he darted over to the candy and picked out a mars bar. "Pet, we've spent enough already! We have to save up for Christmas."

A half-day of preschool for two boys wasn't cheap, apparently. Uncle Vernon was still angry that they were even sending him to preschool to begin with.

"Vernon, he's my nephew!" It was her well-practiced look of horror and exasperation meant to paint Vernon as the abuser, not her.

"This one please, ma'am!" He said, handy the cashier his mars bar and thanking her when she handed it back to him.

"Aunt Petunia, please hold this for me?" he asked, holding it out to her.

"Of course, dear. Now come help me load the groceries in the trolly." She ushered him along with a gentle hand on his back.

The next day, Aunt Petunia drove the both of them to preschool and walked them into the classroom, holding Dudley by the hand and letting him trail along after them. He had a feeling the teacher noticed the blatant favoritism the moment she set eyes on the two of them. Aunt Petunia was carrying Dudley's nice, cartoon character backpack for him, despite the fact it barely had anything in it, and had dressed him in a brand new, well-fitting school uniform. By comparison, Shisui had a cheap, plain black backpack he carried all by himself, and a secondhand school uniform two sizes too big so he could grow into it, and glasses held together by scotch tape.

"Hi! I'm Ms. Williams." The teacher greeted them all, kneeling down to talk to the boys at eye level. "What are your names?"

"I'm Harry! Harry Potter." Shisui said.

"This is my son, Dudley Durlsey." Aunt Petunia said. "Take good care of him for me. You have my number if he gets scared and wants to call me, right? He's never been away from home this long before."

"Of course, Mrs. Durlsey."

"Be a good boy, Dudley." His Aunt Petunia said, hugging her son and crying. "You'll do great. You'll make lots of friends. I can't wait to hear about it!"

He had the distinct feeling it was more reassuring to her than it was to Dudley. Dudley was already trying to worm out of her grip and go play with his childhood friend who lived down the street, Piers Polkiss.

"Mo-om, stop! You're embarrassing me!"

When Aunt Petunia was finally ready to let Dudley go and leave, she turned to him with a stern look on her face. "Be good, Harry. No funny business, do you understand me?"

With a final goodbye to Dudley, she left. Dudley was already ignoring her and playing with Piers.

Overall, his first day at preschool ever in both life times was boring even if it was a bit educational. The kids mostly played, but when they sat together in a circle on the rug they would sing songs, talk about the weather, and learn letters and numbers on the board. But as useful as preschool was, it got boring pretty quickly, and being bored meant that his mind wasn't occupied enough to keep the memories away.

Dudley stuck to playing with Piers and for the most part he ignored Harry entirely, save for the occasional taunt or snatching something out of his hands. All the other kids were playing with toys in groups or by themselves around the room, but he was just sitting at the table practicing writing his letters and numbers in English. He wanted to practice hiragana so he didn't forget it, but he didn't want to risk it either. He was supposed to be an English kid.

When lunchtime came, it became still more obvious how much Dudley was being favorited. All the kids had to bring their own lunch and Aunt Petunia had packed Dudley a lunchable with oreos in it, a fruit rollup, and a juice box in a metal cartoon character lunchbox. Shisui had been packed a peanut butter sandwich, some celery sticks, a banana, and a water bottle in a plastic shopping bag. He saw his teacher notice the discrepancy, especially because he was the only kid in the room to not have an actual lunchbox or even a brown bag lunch, but she didn't say anything to his Aunt Petunia when she came to pick them up.

"Dudley, my baby boy! Did you have a good first day?" his Aunt Petunia exclaimed, hurrying to her son as he was playing with the toys with Piers.

"Yeah, mummy."

Shisui grabbed his bag and Dudley's off the hooks on the wall and walked over to his Aunt Petunia.

"There you are, Harry. Did you behave yourself?" Her expression promised a week of cupboard time if he hadn't.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia."

"Harry was very good today. Dudley wasn't scared at all, he had a great time playing with Piers." His teacher said. "Dudley just needs to work on sharing with the other children."

His Aunt forced a smile. "Yes, of course. We'll work on it at home. Thank you very much. What do you say, boys?"

He turned to his teacher and forced himself not to bow. "Thank you, Ms. Williams. See you tomorrow!" Dudley parroted right along with him, manners having been drilled into the both of them from day one.

Later that evening, Dudley is allowed to sit in front of the telly and watch cartoons while Harry is made to help his Aunt cook dinner.

Currently, he had his step stool pushed up to the counter so he could help her cut up the carrots for dinner.

"I won't tolerate laziness, Harry. Your mum and dad were just lazy, unemployed layabouts." She said, scolding him for something completely unrelated to him while she peeled potatoes. "That's why you have to help me like this, understand? I've got to do with you what Grandma never did with your mum and be harsh with you so you'll learn to be a diligent, hard worker."

"Yes, Aunt Petunia. I understand." He replied. It seemed that, to this day, his aunt still felt slighted by the very same level of favoritism she was currently showing Dudley.

"You aren't special. You will learn your place in the world, and with any luck maybe you won't turn out like them."

"I will, Aunt Petunia." He replied, his voice strong this time. He would be better this time. He didn't know why he was cursed with this second life. All it meant was more time to think about how much he fucked up the last one. Everyone he had ever loved was dead because he wasn't strong enough, and most of them were at his hands.

_I will do better this time. _

He wasn't sure how, but he would.

It was his habit to go out and train when he was done helping his Aunt Petunia wash the dishes after supper.

"Aunt Petunia, may I go out and play?" he asked, already having put his transfigured weapons hostlers on his leg. She never said no.

"Yes, but be home by dark. Don't talk to strangers." His aunt replied curtly. Anything to be rid of him for a while.

"Thanks, Aunt Petunia!"

With that out of the way, he rushed off to his usual training spot. He couldn't do much in the barren open-ness that was the neighborhood playground at this time of day. Anyone could see him even from the houses in the distance, because the playground and field backed up right against the neighborhood. It was all he could do to throw kunai and shuriken at targets he'd fashioned and strung up and run laps around the neighborhood for as long as he could. He was frustrated with himself. Four year old Uchiha Shisui of Konohagakure had been better than this. He'd also had people to spar with and lived in a family, a society, that encouraged it.

Konoha's four year old Shisui had been a happy, outgoing, boisterous, stubborn and loudmouthed kid. Pure and untainted by war and loss. He was a kid who would have obstinately argued with Aunt Petunia about being the only one to load the groceries on the conveyer belt and into the trolly. He was a kid who would have been jealous about Dudley's toys and games and birthday parties and presents. He probably would have pranked them all to get revenge.

But that kid in him died when he graduated the Academy at the age of 5 and was promptly deployed with a rag-tag team of 9 genin to the battlefields of the Third War. All the images in his mind of battle and glory and being the brave hero were savagely cut to pieces, replaced instead with memories of war.

Memories of nine-year-old Aiko-chan being blown up by a trapped enemy ninja's body. She'd only been trying to move it to get to the body of the Leaf ninja below it to properly dispose of it. She was blown to pieces. One second, she was shaking, grabbing the body and moving to heave it up and away, and the next second there was an explosion and where a girl was, now blood, guts, limbs and brain matter were flying through the air.

All it took was one second, and in an instant the shy, quiet nine year old girl he'd sat around the campfire with for weeks was no more. Killing a human was no different than hunting an animal like they did when making camp sometimes. She was the first teammate he'd seen die and it was with her death that he awakened his sharingan.

He didn't know why he was cursed with this second life. An entire lifetime to dwell on the many lives that had been cut short because of him back in Konoha. _I failed everyone. They're all dead because of me._ _This time has to be different._

* * *

Author's Note –

Sorry for the late update! I got stuck on this chapter cause I had so many ideas for early childhood things I wanted to write. But then, when I got down to it, I realized this chapter really should just serve to bridge the gap between infancy and starting Hogwarts. I lost track of my original plans for this chapter, too, so it's probably not as well done as I intended. But its just a bridge anyways.

Also, regarding sorting, I did a lot of youtube theory video watching and blog/essay reading. I have come to the opinion that the Hat decides based on what the child themselves values most, or what they have the potential to value most…like, who they can and want to grow into, I mean. Like with Peter Pettigrew. Trying to analyze his character and how, why, a traitorous rat like him was a Gryffindor has really influenced me with this. It challenged me to really try to delve deep and challenge my opinion of what makes a Gryffindor or a Slytherin and how the hat sorts kids.

That being said, though, regardless of where he's sorted I want him to have friends in many houses. But know that when I say 'friends' that doesn't mean he'll consider them more than acquaintances. I can't see him really confiding in some eleven year old school kids just yet.

Question – what would you all like to see for Shisui's Diagon Alley trip and Hogwarts letter? I've got lots of ideas myself, I'd love to hear yours if you got this far. Rewriting the books is boring, I think. I'd love to do something good with Severus' character, but I don't want to completely redeem him either. Its all up in the air tbh cause i'm writing it as I go. I have lots of ideas but no solid plan.

Opinion – what do you all think of the Durlseys so far? Specifically Vernon and Petunia. As an emotionally, psychologically abused child myself, now an adult…it always rubbed me wrong how their behavior was written to come across as comical, as good versus evil, as….cartoon character stereotype, I guess. I just don't like how it handles the subject matter. Its hard to put into words, I'm sorry. But that's why I'm deviating from canon with them some by adding bits and pieces here and there.


	4. Chapter 3 - Dudley's Birthday

The fifteenth house he'd visited in the Uchiha district was now disturbingly quiet. He'd just disposed of twenty-nine-year-old Uncle Haru, his three three-year-old cousin and birthday boy Shin, and their party guests. At least a dozen dead parents and childrens' bodies were now dead or dying, scattered between the foyer, the hallway, and the dining room.

Seven-year-old Hanako cowered in the futon closet, shaking, terrified, clutched in her mother's embrace as Shisui walked in, stepping around hastily tipped over furniture to reach them.

"Shisui-san, no, please! Please, spare my daughter!" Aunt Hana begged, turning to look at him with a newly awakened sharingan in her eyes. "You can kill me if you want. I don't care! But please spare my daughter! I'll do anything you want!"

The glasses on her Hana's face told him everything he needed to know. Hana wasn't a ninja. Either she was born with poor eyesight or she had caught a fever as a small child that damaged her eyes. Either way, under Lord Fugaku no Uchiha would have been allowed to join the Academy needing glasses.

He silenced her quickly with a single strike. His little cousin, Hanako, screamed, still trapped in her mother's arms as she bled out, staring in disbelief at her mother with newly activated sharingan eyes. Another swing of his sword and Hanako was dead, too.

_I'm sorry, everyone. It has to be done. There's no other way. _

It had been easy, at first, to just act like it was another mission. Just a bunch of Kiri ninja to kill. But with every innocent aunt, uncle, and cousin he had to kill it got harder and harder to keep his mask up.

_This is the right path. Its either the Uchiha clan or the village._

Footsteps running in behind him, way too noisy with inexperience to be adults. _Genin, four of them._

Expertly dodging and blocking kunai and short swords from four Uchiha genin that had tried to ambush him, he hurried and made quick work of cutting them down.

_This is right. There's no other way._

"Up! Get up!"

Ten year old Shisui awoke with a start, half asleep and disturbed by the dream but driven to alertness at the sound of Aunt Petunia's impatient rapping on his pantry bedroom door.

"Get up, now!" He heard the lock click and with another final knock to the door, his aunt let up and went back into the kitchen. She slammed the door shut behind her, frustrated and hurried about something this morning. Perhaps it was because she had to interact with him and acknowledge his existence in the household on something as special as her only son's eleventh birthday. His relatives treated him little better than an unwanted pet dog and he was a moral obligation to them and nothing else. He heard the sounds of her taking out some frying pans and putting them on the stove and opening up the fridge to pull things out.

A moment later, his aunt was back at the door, rapping on it impatiently. "Are you up yet?"

"Nearly!" he called, getting up and slipping on his glasses.

"Lazy bum." He heard his aunt mutter to herself as she walked away back to the kitchen. "He's no better than his father!"

He combed his hair and put on the first thing he found in the stacks of clean clothes on the pantry shelf.

"Took you long enough." His Aunt snapped as he walked into the kitchen.

She motioned to the frying pans of bacon and scrambled eggs on the stove. "Watch the bacon and eggs for me, will you? And try not to burn anything!"

Dudley wasn't up yet, so his aunt left him with the food to go upstairs and wake him up.

He never did burn anything, just like he'd never once blown anything up let alone their house, but there was no convincing her. He still remembered how to cook, even if the food was different from what he remembered. Learning to cook had come with the job of being his elderly, disabled grandfather's caretaker and the sole breadwinner between them after his parents died in the Third War.

Minutes later, his aunt and cousin came back in together. His aunt was covering her son's eyes, her face all lit up with excitement to see his reaction to her birthday decorations..

"Happy birthday, darling!" His Aunt Petunia exclaimed, swelling with pride and moving her hands away from his eyes so he could see the kitchen table.

His aunt had gone all out decorating for Dudley's birthday today. A Happy Birthday banner hung on the wall and balloons and ribbons were stuck to the ceiling fan above the table, and his Aunt's usual generic birthday themed table cover replaced her usual rose themed one. The table was nearly covered in Dudley's presents, with barely any room left to eat. Some had been placed on the floor beside Dudley's new racing bike to make room for breakfast.

"Good morning, Pet. Happy birthday, son!" Uncle Vernon said as he entered the kitchen, right on time as he was setting the plates of toast, eggs and bacon on the table and his jar of jam. "Comb your hair, boy!"

Dudley was sitting at the table, a look of serious concentration on his face as he counted his presents while his mother put food on his plate for him. His face fell.

"Thirty-six." He said, looking up at his mum and dad with a look of disappointment and frustration. "That's less than last year! Last year I had thirty-seven!"

Uncle Vernon chuckled at Dudley's yelling. "Well, son, some of them are quite a bit bigger than last year!"

And they were. This year, it looked like he got a second television with a built in VHS tape slot and the new computer he'd been begging for that could handle all the computer games he loved to play without hanging up.

While nobody was paying attention, Shisui took the opportunity and speared a few slices of bacon to add to his plate.

"I don't care how big they are!" Dudley bellowed, standing to yell at his parents, his fists clenched in anger. Shisui watched him carefully as he ate.

"Darling, you forgot the one from Aunt Marge under the big one from mummy and daddy." His Aunt said, a note of desperation in her voice as she poured her son a glass of orange juice. He'd turned the table over, broken plates, and hit her before.

Dudley went red in the face, embarrassed and angry about it. "Thirty-seven, then." He groused.

Shisui hurried to wolf down his toast with jam and the extra slices of bacon before his entitled little cousin threw a temper tantrum.

His Aunt sensed danger, too. "How about this, dear? We'll buy you two new presents when we go out today. Two new presents! 39 presents. How's that? Is that alright, pumpkin?"

"Oh." Dudley said, sitting down heavily. "Alright then."

His Aunt visibly relaxed, all the nervous tension leaving her shoulders as her son started eating and she finally sat down, herself.

Uncle Vernon chuckled. "Little tyke wants his money's worth, just like his father! Atta boy, Dudley!" he said, ruffling his son's blonde hair. "See, Pet? No harm done!"

It was a never-ending battle. Uncle Vernon didn't see Dudley's temper as a bad thing. In fact, unless Dudley purposely sicked up all over the carpet, he praised his son for going out there and being a man and taking what he wanted. He'd grow out of it, he insisted.

Shisui was already done, so he got up and started doing the dishes, and just as he'd finished up and was cleaning the counters the telephone rang. His aunt got up from the table to answer it.

"Hello, Petunia Dursley speaking?" his aunt said. "What?!"

Her cry of indignance got his attention.

"Yes, of course Mrs. Figg. I understand. No, not at all, don't worry. You get better, alright? Let us know if you need anything, we can send the boy over to help. Yes, yes. Have a good afternoon, goodbye Mrs. Figg."

Vernon looked at his wife expectantly, still shoveling second helpings into his mouth. "Bad news, Vernon. Arabella broke her leg and she can't take him."

Dudley's mouth fell open in horror.

"Now what?" His aunt looked at him, furious, as if he'd plotted it all himself and put her in a genjutsu himself. Too angry to finish eating, she put her plate on the counter for him to wash.

"I suppose we could ask Marge to take him…." Vernon suggested.

"Don't be silly, Vernon. She hates the boy. She'll never agree to it."

"What about that friend of yours, Yvonne? Dudley's friend's mum?"

"She's on vacation." Petunia snapped. "Left last week with her family on a cruise."

"You could leave me here?" he suggested. "Give me a list of chores to work on while your gone. I can have the house spotless in time for the party tonight."

"And return to find the house in ruins?!" his aunt growled. "Never. You are not to be trusted alone, unattended, without supervision in my house."

Moments of tense silence, before his aunt spoke up hesitantly. "I suppose we could take him with us and just leave him in the car?"

"That car's new! He's not sitting in it alone. We'll just have to take him in with us."

His aunt looked horrified at the suggestion. "Vernon!"

"Its better than paying for a babysitter and risking the whole neighborhood finding out about his freakish abnormality. Its safer to just take him with us." Vernon spoke with a note of finality that everyone knew not to argue with.

Nearly forgotten in the discussion, Dudley started sniffling and fake crying. "B-But I do-don't want h-him to g-go! He alw-always ruins ev-everything!"

"Don't worry, Duddykins, Mummy won't let him ruin your special day!" his aunt replied, flinging her arms around him and talking to him like he was a small child and not an eleven-year-old boy. It was no wonder the crying act worked every single time.

The doorbell rang and at once, Dudley stopped crying and his father actually looked on at his son with pride as his wife rushed to get the door.

"Good morning, Patricia! Do come in. Hello, Piers! It's so good to see you. Dudley's in the kitchen."

Within an hour, all five of them had paid their fees and were walking into the London Zoo. Dudley and Piers were both licking chocolate ice cream cones and Shisui himself a lemon ice pop, if only because the vendor had asked what he wanted as well. The trip was a good idea, in theory. However, neither Dudley nor Piers were particularly fond of animals and they quickly grew bored with the exhibits.

"This is so boring." Piers complained. "I'm tired of looking at monkeys and tigers and lions that do nothing but sit and nap!"

"Mum, why'd we have to come here?" Dudley whined. "Why couldn't you have taken us to the amusement park? Or the arcade?"

They stopped for lunch at a café at the zoo to shut the boys up. For once, Dudley didn't throw a single tantrum. He didn't want to look bad in front of his friend, especially on his birthday. Its not every day you turn eleven, after all.

After watching Dudley and Piers eat their knickerbocker glories, shooting him gloating looks every few bites, his aunt and uncle took them to the reptile house. It was an inside exhibit, so it was a lot cooler in here than it was outside.

"Piers, look! This one's huge!" Dudley exclaimed, running over to the biggest snake in the reptile house, a Burmese Python.

"Woah! Its so huge I bet it could crush your dad's car!"

The snake opened its beady yellow eyes and considered the two preteen boys pressing their faces up against the glass for a moment before dismissing them and going back to sleep.

"Aw. Why won't it do anything? Dad, make it move!" Dudley demanded.

Uncle Vernon tapped the glass with his knuckles, but the snake snoozed on.

"Try it again, Mr. Dursley." Piers asked impatiently.

Uncle Vernon tried again, rapping the glass with his knuckles smartly, but the python just ignored them.

"This is so boring!" Dudley sighed, shuffling away to look at the tarantulas a shuriken throw away.

Shisui gave the snake an apologetic look. "They're so rude. Sorry about them."

For the first time in his new life, a feeling of cold shock settled in his very bones as he heard not words but a strange, unfamiliar hissing issue forth from his own mouth. _What did I just do?_

The snake opened its eyes at once, regarding him with a look of surprise and respect before it flicked it's tongue out at him, curious. It was strange. He'd never bothered with snakes before, but somehow he could read its body language like it were human.

**A hatchling…a ssssspeaker! **

He heard hissing, but inexplicably he understood what it said clear as day.

His eyes widened in shock. _I can talk to a snake and it can talk back! _

His family noticed what was going on, too, he could tell that much without turning around to look at them. They'd stopped walking away to the tarantulas. He could feel eyes boring into the back of his head and he heard the sudden, immediate silence as they all stared at him interacting with the snake.

An idea occurred to him, and he grinned at the snake. _I could have a summoning contract with snakes! Hell, I could be the next snake sannin if I tried._

Glancing at his relatives out of the corner of his eyes, he caught sight of his relatives' and the boy's looks of horror and exasperation. _Better wrap this up. _

"Hey, thanks for talking with me! This is so cool!" He hadn't felt this alive in a long time.

**Of courssssse masssster ssssspeaker. **

His aunt gave him a warning look that promised a lecture later before ushering the two bewildered preteens away to the tarantulas. "Come on, now, boys. Harry's just pulling a prank."

Uncle Vernon marched over to him, his face quickly turning purple with suppressed rage. "I warned you, boy, no funny business. We will deal with this when we get home. Now come."

He nodded and pulled a sheepish face. "Yes, sir. I'm sorry Uncle Vernon."

It would be his longest grounding to his cupboard yet – two weeks straight in the cupboard. He was let out only in the morning and evening to go to the bathroom, and he was fed small meals on a small plate three times a day through the cat-flap on his cupboard door.

If anyone asked, the cupboard was their shy, skittish cat's favorite hiding place. Her food and water and litterbox and bed were all in here so she could run and hide whenever visitors came over. They didn't have a cat. They also told everyone that Dudley's second bedroom belonged to Harry and they kept it locked whenever Dudley's friends came over to keep the guise up. No one except Aunt Marge knew he slept in the cupboard under the stairs. It was a very strict family secret, out of fear that if anyone found out Child Services would be called and Dudley would be taken away.

* * *

Author's Note:

I had a hard time getting through this chapter because I found it incredibly dull and repetitive to write. But at the same time, I know the zoo scene was important to the books and movies because it revealed that Harry could speak Parseltongue. This is a point I wanted to make clear here, as well. I'm too tired to write more tonight, but I'll start tomorrow. Shisui gets his Hogwarts letter next. As much as I like character developing behind the scenes type of chapters, that really isn't important for the Dursley family and that's something I'm trying to remember this time around.


End file.
